For fear this might end well
by Moon Prynces
Summary: Butch with his enthusiasm; Buttercup with her commitment-phobia; and their complicated, almost, not-quite relationship.
1. pushing me away so I give her space

8-1-12

Summary–Butch with his enthusiasm; Buttercup with her commitment-phobia; and their complicated, almost, not-quite relationship.

**Disclaimer–I do not own The Powerpuff Girls, which belongs to its respective owner(s) and is only being used in a fan-made, fictional story.**

**xoxo**

**Title–For fear this might end well**

**Chapter 1–pushing me away so I give her space**

**By–Moon Prynces**

**xoxo**

He sighed for the nth time as she turned away to join a group of her friends that magically appeared whenever he tried to talk with her seriously about anything these days.

And as he ran a hand through the random mess that was his hair he accidentally caught Blossom's worried gaze and looked away before it could get to him.

There was no choice but to head to class after that; the bell would ring in a second and Buttercup didn't even glance back at him after their brief exchange.

It was after he took his usual seat and the lesson began – revealing that he already understood the concepts on the board – that he let his thoughts linger to his current personal problems with his supposed, soon-to-be girlfriend.

She probably thought that he'd back far, far away after a few days. Maybe she even thought he'd break up with her over her avoidance and be done with her. Maybe...she was hoping for it – anything to get rid of any unpleasantness in her life.

But he'd already stuck it out with this behavior a week now. And for being in high school, that was saying something.

Things had started out so great. Of course, he had been the one to make the first move...

_"Detention. Both of you."_

_"Wha–" She stood up with mouth agape, thinking this an unfair punishment._

_Butch just shook his head to himself, still sitting down calmly behind her seat._

_"Down, Buttercup."_

_She had no choice but to grit her teeth and follow orders as the teacher stared her down._

_"Today. Room 316. You'll both have an essay assignment waiting for you," he continued without looking up from shuffling around papers on his desk. The empty classroom echoed. "I'll see you two there."_

_Without a proper goodbye, he turned and left the room with a textbook and stack of worksheets in hand._

_Buttercup rounded on her classmate, even though it was lunchtime and she could escape to complain loudly to her sisters and friends._

_"What is wrong with you?" she asked viciously, practically foaming at the mouth._

_"You didn't have to elbow me," he countered, looking miffed as well. The slight redness on his right cheek was fading but the pain was still there. God, did she have bony elbows._

_"Don't touch my hair!" she screeched, standing again and placing both hands on his desk. She glanced down at it, eyes narrowing just slightly. "Your desk is like two inches closer than it was yesterday." And she forcefully pushed it back toward him, knocking the air out of his lungs._

_She followed their teacher's example and left without another word. When she was gone, Butch stood up slowly, holding his stomach in pain and testing his limits._

_But he still grinned to himself._

A similar grin worked its way onto his face as he reminisced.

Maybe it hadn't been perfect...but it was a start.

He took his time getting up as class ended. Taller than the average, he could have easily waded through the crowd and made a pit stop at BC's locker.

But he decided against it and made leisurely strides to his next class.

Anyway, after that day with detention it was smooth sailing. At least she knew who he was, acknowledged his presence when she caught sight of him, even said hi once in a while...

_"Get out of my way, loser."_

_He glanced over his shoulder blankly to see her dark hair just as she pushed past him._

_But it was understandable. This was the only route to the gym._

_He watched as she rounded the corner, and realized the scene was pretty empty. So he slammed his locker shut quickly and jogged to catch up to her, despite having no business in this direction._

_She was just about to pull open one in a set of blue double doors, and he could already hear the sounds of sneakers squeaking against the overly-polished hardwood floors._

_"Hey!" he called down the short corridor._

_She started at the sound and glanced up sharply in his direction. Her face set into an irritated expression. "Did you need something?" Before he could answer that query she continued with, "Like a bruise to bring to the infirmary?"_

_He couldn't help smiling at her remark, which only caused her to become alarmed and confused._

_"Look, how about I stop being a creep and you stop being a bitch and we go out to eat later?"_

_She stared at him blankly, hand hanging limply onto the door handle. She opened her mouth to answer, not giving any indication to what she would say. "I–"_

_And then the door swung open and smacked her in the side of the face. Ouch._

_Butch inhaled sharply as the unknown person began apologizing to Buttercup, who was on the floor and holding both hands a few inches away from the now swollen area as if afraid to make contact._

_"I-I can't believe this," she finally let out, looking up as he came closer to crouch and examine the damage._

Did she agree to go out with him? Well, the answer should be obvious.

...

_Actually,_ and he looked up to see the dark head of hair across the room. Maybe it wasn't, judging by the current situation.

They'd only been seeing each other for a little over a month now. Things had been going so well.

For someone so gung-ho and unnecessarily rough at times, Buttercup was surprisingly fun and easily cheerful about this whole relationship thing. It was nothing new to her, apparently.

She liked seeing movies, but hated going to theaters. Her idea of a good _Monday_ night involved alcohol (underage drinking!). And she'd snuck him into and out of her room every chance she had – to which he tried to argue because he didn't want to come off as _that guy_ to her entire family.

Who ever knew she was the type?

Well, _he_ did, now.

**xoxo**

There was the sound of something crashing and he winced while walking into the living room.

Butch rubbed at his hair with the towel around his shoulders and glanced, with another flinch, at the television where a car was exploding unrealistically.

He sat down heavily on the empty couch as Brick clutched the purple controller tightly in hand, attempting some maneuver. And instead of his attention going to the action on-screen, he was stuck staring at the device his brother held onto.

_He stared at the controller in her hands as she watched the TV with the most serene expression he'd ever seen on her face. None of the little animated people running around or random fires going on or the sounds of police sirens fazed her._

_Until she finally died and tossed the thing onto the coffee table._

_"Hey, watch it!" he said instantly. "Brick's gonna have a fit if there's even a scratch."_

_Buttercup turned her head to him slowly in what would be a creepy way if there wasn't also a knowing, sensual smile blooming on her lips._

_He watched cautiously, already used to her devious ways. But he still wasn't prepared for her to inch closer to his end of the couch, and then carefully climb into his lap with her arms wrapping loosely around his neck._

_Butch shook his head with a small smile of his own. "BC, what are you doing?"_

_She sighed nonchalantly. "That game got boring."_

_"So, I'm just another game now?" he questioned with a smirk, leaning back into the sofa and not giving her the satisfaction of putting his hands on her._

_She leaned in to kiss him and mumbled just before they touched, "No."_

_For the next few moments they got carried away. And she forgot about the video game she lost and he forgot about the fact that they weren't actually alone in the house – Boomer was in his room listening to music._

_His arms wound around her middle, keeping their bodies together as they made-out. But then it ended._

_And as they pulled apart, lips the last thing to disconnect and foreheads still leaning toward each other, he started to say something._

_"I really like you..."_

_With eyes still closed from their previous kiss, his quiet words were drowned out when she leaned in again to silence him._

_He didn't think anything of it at the time. Only that she was possibly just as happy as he was in that moment. That she understood. That she must be satisfied with him finally giving a real confession of feelings – an actual foundation to all this hanging out they'd been doing lately._

Butch blinked his eyes open to see his bedroom ceiling with the street lights sneaking in from the slightly open window blinds.

He threw an arm across his face to block out the memory, feeling stupid all over again. Because now he knew.

She didn't care about the confession except to delay hearing it – maybe not wanting to hear it at all.

It wasn't until another week had passed and they both stayed up late one night, on the phone with each other, that he took notice of some things.

He only asked a few simple things in-between their bickering about music and mocking each other over food preferences. Things like, how her sisters were and was he ever going to officially meet her family. She had already been introduced to his, seeing as they usually hung out at his house.

She kind of dodged around the questions, charming him into forgetting for the moment.

Whenever he found his footing and went back to the previous, unfinished topics she pretended to be busy doing something around her room and hadn't heard his words. Sometimes she just seemed to "not pay attention" or "space off" and had forgotten what they were talking about altogether.

Didn't take a genius to figure it out, although he kind of wished she'd just say the words.

She didn't really want to get to know him, and vice versa. They hung out, made-out, watched movies at her place or his, and he wasn't too keen on drinking so she didn't do it in front of him but still...he only got what she was willing to give. It had been fine at first, but now it just didn't seem like much. A cheap, shiny trinket to keep him distracted from any real treasure.

Why was it so hard to get close to her? It never really seemed like she was damaged over anything. She was all too eager to enjoy the beginning stages of their relationship where things were happy and fun and not serious.

So now what? Did she really want it to be over before it even got started?

Butch closed his eyes, trying to not think and fall back asleep.

**xoxo**

The room was relatively quiet, with the sounds of pencils scratching across paper and students shifting restlessly in their seats. The teacher glanced up for a moment to retain order.

He stared down at the questions in front of him. All so easy, with the few possible options underneath each but only one right answer.

All he did was ask a few questions, too. And whatever options she had to choose from...she made the _wrong_ choice.

It was why they were sitting at opposite ends of the cafeteria and she subtly ducked into the girl's bathroom when she saw him coming and sat as far away as possible from him during every class, even striking a deal or two to switch her seat with people.

But with the way things had been going, with her being so easy to talk to, he thought she would be more open. Or at least avoid the apparently uncomfortable issues in the moment and then get back to him the next day like nothing happened.

All this avoidance was so overdramatic and ridiculous.

He was just curious. And he had expected her to ask it first, actually.

What were her past relationships like? Who was the last person she dated?

If these two hadn't put him in this current predicament then he might have even asked...how far she'd gone before – seeing as she didn't seem like a stranger to the physical aspects of a relationship.

Well, now that he paid attention, he supposed this could be an answer.

Obviously something weird happened and she didn't want to talk about it, right? Bad relationships, crappy guys, stuff like that?

But it was more than that. She couldn't even look at him, reply to any text messages, didn't want to sit near him in class!

And he didn't even do anything!

**xoxo**

He caught sight of her alone at her locker, for once. And he was relieved to notice that the hallway was pretty much deserted; classes were over, and all but athletes and club members had left twenty minutes ago.

"Hey," he started casually as he drew closer.

Her head snapped from looking down into her bag to staring into her locker. But she didn't try to run away.

"Hey," she returned in the same manner, grabbing another textbook from her storage space.

"You need some help?" he questioned while watching her struggle to hold everything at once.

"I, uh–"

He stopped her before a poor excuse tumbled out. "Okay."

There was some awkward moment of silence as she stared into her locker. "So..."

"I'll be around, you know. Just...find me when..." He trailed off, unsure how to finish this without being misunderstood.

And he left after making sure she caught his look that said, _I'm not done with you. This isn't close to being over._

**xoxo**

His phone started buzzing, and before he could reach over to the end table it vibrated right onto the floor.

When he finally snatched it up and checked, the message only made him frown in slight confusion.

So he didn't bother typing out a reply, instead just calling her number.

"I didn't expect that," she answered.

"It's like eleven o'clock. Shouldn't you be asleep?" he asked back.

She scoffed loudly.

"And it's Thursday."

"Look, are you coming out with me or not? I'm hungry. And it's just a quick bite."

"What could possibly be open right now?"

"The drive-thru." She paused. "Are you in or out?"

He took a moment to think this over. But his decision was already made.

It was the first time she'd tried to contact him since she began avoiding him. Maybe his lame and thoughtless words the other day had gotten to her... Maybe this was her way of slowly reaching out to him!

"Sure," he told her. "But now the only problem is...neither of us has a car."

"So? We just walk."

Butch smiled suddenly, though she couldn't see it. "Of course."

And it continued on from there.

She sat down with him in the cafeteria again. They went to an actual movie theater once. And a few random nights a week, she suggested they go out to do something, whether it was a midnight snack or picking up a bottle of nail polish remover at the drugstore or messing around with sidewalk chalk on the virtually empty streets.

But he did note some changes.

It happened while they walked back from a trek to get this candy they hadn't had since they were kids.

Their hands were swinging casually side by side one moment, and the next he tried to grab hers.

She didn't grasp back. In fact, she waited a few moments before slipping out of his fingers.

He almost lost his footing and stared at her back while slowing down to a crawl himself. He even brought the hand in question up to look into the empty, open palm.

Did he miss something?

**xoxo**

It wasn't just that though.

She didn't come over to his house anymore. And she didn't bring him over to hers, either.

They only saw each other in school or hung out around town. There was no home base. Everything was out in the open – like she was afraid he'd turn into a creep and try to take advantage of her or something dramatic.

The idea kept chewing at him until he had to find out.

School had just let out and she was leading the way to this diner while talking it up.

"Why don't we just go back to my house and make sandwiches ourselves?" he asked harmlessly.

"Actually, I wanted the french fries and milkshake," she threw over her shoulder.

There was some more internal struggle before he stopped walking altogether. "What are we doing?"

Buttercup stopped as well and turned around.

"I mean, really: what are we _doing?_ What happened? You've been acting so different since–" He cut himself off, but she still made a small wincing motion. "Look, I'm sorry." And he cautiously closed the gap that had grown between them. "But you had to know I'd ask. Are we still, uh, you know, seeing each other?"

Buttercup chuckled at his momentary discomfort, before berating herself. "I know, I know. If I were more grown up I would have said something about it by now instead of leaving you all confused."

There was silence.

"You're still here," she stated. "I just like that." She stared at him, seemingly unaware of herself and with eyes threatening to hypnotize him into saying or doing something stupid again. Then she shook her head, realizing her actions. "But, if you don't want to do this – hanging out and stuff – then it's fine."

Butch watched her face for a few moments, as she kept her expression indifferent. Finally, he leaned over and kissed her forehead quick. "No, I'm good. We'll just...take things slow."

**xoxo**

Which, at times, was easier said than done.

Butch rolled his eyes skyward in helpless prayer.

This situation? Right here? He wasn't even sure how it happened.

One minute he was trying to finish that lab for chem and the next she sent some vague message wondering what he was up to.

But he was now better versed in the language of Buttercup and knew she was probably feeling lonely and bored and wanted to see him, but hadn't found a reason for them both to leave their houses at ten thirty on this chilly night.

So after his homework was done, he grabbed a jacket and snuck out to head to her house. A twenty minute walk was nothing.

_Open your window, his reply said._

_He watched as she did so, looking around carefully._

_When she spotted him – at first shocked – she smiled crookedly and shook her head at him. Then she leaned casually over the sill and asked in a loud whisper, "So now what?"_

_Butch looked offended. "You're not going to invite me up?"_

_She rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Sure. You remember the way." And she waved to the side of the house that was easiest to climb up and down._

_Once his feet landed on her floor there was a moment of silence. He turned to close the window, threw off his jacket and shoes, and turned back to her with open arms. "Honey, I'm home!"_

_"Shh!" Buttercup jumped up from her bed while glancing at her bedroom door. "Oh, it's funny, huh?" she questioned as a grin spread across his face. "You know, you didn't have to come over. I was gonna go to bed anyway."_

_At that his expression dropped, because did he really make his way here to see her for no reason?_

_But when he refocused on her, she was lying on one side of the bed and staring up at the ceiling. "You wanna lie down?"_

So that's what happened. And they didn't say a word about anything while both staring up at the walls. The silence wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it'd be. And pretty soon after she drifted off. And he was feeling tired after that unnecessary walk to her house so he kind of fell asleep just a little bit too.

But then he woke up to find them curled toward each other with his hand strewn over her hip and hers holding loosely onto the front of his shirt and she smelled so nice and calming and how the heck was he supposed to get out of the bed and head home at–

Holy– It was past midnight!

She felt him moving around, the bed squirming along too.

"What?" she raised her head with blurry eyes in question.

"Well, princess, it's time to take my leave," he whispered with a grin while pecking her temple and turning to get out of bed.

"Bu–"

And they both glanced down to where her hand had the hem of his shirt in its grasp.

"I mean," she started, letting go abruptly and sitting up, "See you tomorrow."

He watched a moment as she stared at the opposite wall while messing with her hair, trying to smooth down anything out of place.

The bed bounced as he sat down and went about putting on his sneakers. But she didn't say anything else.

He took his time slipping on the jacket and hoping it'd keep him warm enough before he got to his own bedroom.

Still, nothing.

Before he started back the way he came, he asked, "You gonna be okay?" He even made the risky move of grabbing her hand as he stood at the side of the bed, waiting.

"Mm? Yeah, it's fine," she mumbled absent-mindedly, like she hadn't noticed his coming departure.

She felt him squeeze her hand and watched him walk backwards until it slipped out of his reach, then used the raised hand to wave goodbye with a hesitant smile.

Maybe he kind of wanted to stay, bad idea though it was. But she didn't give him any real indication she wanted it too. And he didn't want to overstep any boundaries – make her feel weird or think he was trying to rush her into anything.

They were supposed to be taking things slow now. Even if he'd been itching for kisses since the last time it happened, over a month ago now. She was lucky he wasn't the type to tackle a girl in her sleep.

_Then again,_ he thought while walking across the grass and under the shadow of a tree.

He shook off the thoughts of stealing kisses while she was unconscious, because that was no way to get her to really open up to him. Making out didn't compare to...whenever the time came that she'd happily – without holding back – tell him about her latest test or complain about her sisters or–

...Or believe him when he told her his feelings, and maybe even reply.

Butch left without glancing back to see if she was watching him leave.

He could wait.

**xoxo**

"Dude. What are you _doing_?" a voice asked from his bedroom door.

Butch looked up to see one of his brothers staring in absolute horror-struck confusion.

"What?" he replied dumbly.

Had he forgotten to flush or something? Was there porn open on his computer and he didn't realize? Did someone find out what happened to that jar of peanut butter?

"Why hasn't Buttercup been around anymore? I thought you guys broke up or something, but then I see you still talking and walking together in school. What happened?"

The dark-haired teen frowned in irritation while turning back to the book he was trying to read for class.

_Thanks, that's exactly what I wanna think about now,_ his thoughts relayed. Outwardly he didn't bother responding.

His brother gave a look and made a motion to show he was expecting something.

When he noticed this, he remarked, "What? You guys miss her hanging around or something?"

"She is better company than you sometimes." A shrug followed.

"Get out of here, Brick," he growled in annoyance. As the other turned to leave uncaringly, he shouted, "And for god's sake, knock, you prick!"

He was sure that throwing something would transform him into a teenage girl, and so resisted the urge.

That wasn't the only urge he was repressing lately. And it's not what everyone would assume.

Lately...he had been wondering what was going on with him and Buttercup.

The thing was, sometimes it seemed like they were just friends – hanging out, doing stupid things, random ventures. There hadn't been any real hand-holding or other romantic gestures since that one night. And that had been, he hated to remember, almost two months ago. They didn't repeat sneaking into each other's room or falling asleep in the same space again.

And as they spent more and more time together, getting to know each other and somehow becoming _best friends_, he found himself falling for her over small smiles and french fries and movies at the one theater that was never crowded. A smidge here, an inch there, an hour last week, two drumsticks* yesterday...

He liked her. A lot. Every time they saw each other or spoke or he thought about her just kept packing on feelings to this growing mound.

But did she even see him that way anymore? Was she still interested in him the way he was interested in her?

How long should he keep waiting for something to change? It wasn't an exact science. Would it really be worth it in the end? He didn't mean to sound cynical or be someone who gave up so easily – another guy just waiting to have his own needs met – but...this was taking its toll.

Maybe it was time to really get over her. Being friends was great, but not while he still had this massive crush on her that she didn't seem to be reciprocating or even acknowledging. It was just toying with his emotions, though she didn't mean to. He was only torturing himself.

And maybe it would be better to just be friends – she was a great and fun person to be with and talk to – but after he let go of these feelings.

It was hard not to lose hope. There was no hint or clue as to what she was feeling. He tried asking once, but her answers were vague. She never implied only wanting friendship but she also didn't broach the subject of romance. It was close to what she'd said that one time: that she liked being with him.

Sometimes it seemed like there was progress. A few times he noticed her watching him with some expression he couldn't place. She grabbed his hand to drag him along hurriedly to catch a movie on time or something. She even brought up these stories about when she and her sisters were kids the day he was reminiscing about his own childhood.

_Hm,_ he contemplated over the words on the page to distract him.

**xoxo **

**No date. (sometime two weeks after starting?)**

*Drumsticks as in the ice cream from the Nestlé brand. Search online and you'll see what I mean. My personal favorite flavor is "Super Nugget". (I was just on the site =)

This story was first inspired by the song "Take Care" by Drake and Rihanna. The lines that stuck out were, "...**pushing me away so I give her space, dealing with her heart that I didn't break, I'll be there for you, I will care for you**..." And then a few lines down, "...**when you're ready, just say you're ready**...**we'll change the pace and we'll just go slow**..." And then from the second verse, "...**can't deny that I want you**...**even though we both know that you do**..."

I also had in mind the work of deviantart artist **ujikin**. You should check it out. I love this person's depiction of the PPG and RRB, as well as other things. The particular images that stuck with me were "drunken BC" and "understand me".

That's all I'll leave you with for now. Part two will be up in a couple days and be sure to read the End Notes next time too! Thanks for reading and tell me what you think. (And seriously, I have reread this thing over _two dozen _times. No lie. So if you find mistakes, please tell me! I hate when that happens – after all the work I put in there's still something wrong.)

1-17-13

5:07am


	2. cant deny that I want you

**No date. (written same time as chapter one.)**

Summary–Butch with his enthusiasm; Buttercup with her commitment-phobia; and their complicated, almost, not-quite relationship.

**Disclaimer–I do not own The Powerpuff Girls, which belongs to its respective owner(s) and is only being used in a fan-made, fictional story.**

**xoxo**

**Title–For fear this might end well**

**Chapter 2–cant deny that I want you**

**By–Moon Prynces**

**xoxo**

_"You look like a zombie," he commented with a snicker while walking up to her locker._

_She narrowed her eyes and turned her head slowly in this eerie manner that should have had him laughing harder or laughing with an apology._

_Instead he stared blankly, causing her to turn back to her books. "Seriously, you do. We could probably make a horror movie and you wouldn't need any make-up."_

_Okay, enough was enough. She slapped his head with her notebook before sticking it in her bag. "Yeah, well then maybe I should just head home."_

_"Maybe," he replied thoughtfully, which caused her to slam her locker shut with too much force in surprise._

_"What?"_

_"Did you even get sleep last night?" He leaned against the nearby lockers while examining her face._

_Overwhelmed by the scrutiny, she looked down and adjusted her bag unnecessarily in hopes of deterring him._

_Why was he worrying so much? It was nothing._

_Though, a part of her was kind of liking the concern. A guy that didn't mind her ditching him for some shut-eye? Score. (It'd be even better if he was baking and cooking deliciously unhealthy foods for her, but whatever.)_

_Then she remembered he asked a question. So she shrugged and said, "I forgot about this essay due today. Spent almost all night and some of the morning writing it."_

_He watched a moment longer, much to her chagrin. "So forget about hanging out today. Just go home and catch up on sleep."_

_"No, it–"_

_Wait. Was she passing on sleep because she actually (kind of desperately) wanted to spend more time with him? Didn't they just spend the entire fifth period (history) discussing what their alliance would be like if they each ruled their own country instead of completing the group assignment? Why didn't she just agree and zombie walk all the way to her bed right now?_

_"Let's just go," she finally said and started for the school's front doors._

Her eyes popped open and for a moment she thought she was still walking along the streets with him.

But that had been a month ago. She couldn't change her mind now. She couldn't forget her own realizations.

So Buttercup glanced at the clock and decided to start getting ready for the day, even if she had half an hour before her alarm would go off.

She fell asleep and awoke with the same feeling lately.

It wasn't something new. It hadn't disappeared and reappeared. It had been there from the beginning (well, not when he got her detention and a black eye but just after).

It was nice. Most of the time.

It made her smile to herself when she was alone and a random thought of him popped up. It created this squirmy, heart-thumping, elation in her insides. It made her want to talk to him longer, hang out with him more, and just–

But she remembered this feeling. She wasn't new to it.

This time, though, it was accompanied by hesitation. And doubt. ...Fear.

She rubbed a hand over her eyes while walking into the bathroom. And while it looked like an innocuous action, she was really just avoiding the mirror while these thoughts passed through.

**xoxo**

There were other things he did besides concern himself over her obvious lack of sleep. Things she shouldn't have noticed. Ways that he looked out for her without being asked.

Like when they were walking to class and he would change their route without comment or losing place in their conversation. She never said anything about it because she didn't realize what he was doing.

Except the one time where she almost bumped into him, assuming they were going straight while he tried to veer them into a left turn. When she was about to ask why, she spotted the crowd around the bulletin boards further down – enough people to make squeezing through possible but... She didn't like crowds. And he knew that.

She glanced at him after their turn and a few moments of silence. There was no expression that indicated he thought anything of it.

If they had continued on that path thoughtlessly, she would have complained about it until she was in a bad mood. So, she was strangely flattered – felt herself smile a little.

He was so subtle. Which was good.

Because although she wasn't a stranger to intimacy, it took longer than it should have for her to get used to him being so easily affectionate. A quick kiss on her cheek or temple or nose as he left – anywhere but the lips since they hit restart. Casual terms of endearment that he used so quickly and without any awkwardness – like princess or honey or babe.

And she found she was sometimes paranoid whenever he gave that quirky smile of his, whether they were parting ways or he had just spotted her from a distance – not that it was his fault.

It was all her. She simultaneously wanted things to work out in the end – to have a real relationship without all this cautiousness like she had once been capable of – but also wanted to just throw in the towel before it got too far, a collection of hopelessness from the past gnawing at her.

She wished she could easily go back to the person she was before. The one who didn't over-think situations, or flinch when a guy showed such serious interest in her.

Would she ever get to the point where things would be normal and they could talk about anything and she wasn't waiting/hoping for the end?

**xoxo**

One of the usual guys came to their table while Butch was still telling her about a video game she was thinking of borrowing.

"You guys decided yet?"

Without lifting her head from her palm she replied with, "French fries and a chocolate shake for me and a grilled cheese with a pickle on the side for whatshisface."

When he was gone, she realized Butch was staring at her in confusion.

"What?" she asked defensively.

"How'd you kno–"

Buttercup rolled her eyes. "Well it was either that or did you want spaghetti this time?"

He raised a brow. "You remember what I like to get?"

She opened her mouth to be a smartass but stopped upon realizing that _yes, she did_.

He had a great view of her shocked face, but only grinned to himself and turned to look outside the window as if they'd just finished the conversation.

They both spaced off while waiting for their food, though her milkshake was brought along quickly. In-between sips she tried to find what else she had stored in her memory from all their time together.

Well, he was lazy when it came to math – but when she offered to help him out found it was because he was way too smart for the class they were in. He worked in a women's clothing store on the weekends – something he tried to keep from their immature peers. And she noticed that he seemed to like when she had on black nail polish, though she rarely wore any at all.

_When did I know all this?_ she wondered.

She looked over to see him still watching the cars passing by with one hand tapping on the table. And she realized she knew him well enough to know that when he was messing with his hands he wanted to say something but couldn't or wouldn't.

And maybe she would have asked what was on his mind...if she wasn't still reeling from the fact that she knew him so well.

It was strange and surprising because...it had been so long since she cared about someone like this and wanted to learn everything about them...a while since she remembered the tiny details that made up a person...and some time since she found it all cute and endearing instead of irritating or not worthy of anything but an eye-roll.

Butch wasn't the only one putting in some effort, though he didn't know it.

Buttercup stared him down until he looked at her again, with his usual grin that she couldn't help but return.

**xoxo**

She couldn't stop her leg from jumping while she sat at her desk doing homework. She kept flipping channels while watching TV. No song was good enough – she couldn't listen to more than twenty seconds before skipping. None of her normal reading material could hold her attention.

As most profound thoughts do, she realized it in the shower.

She was antsy.

She used to be able to jump into relationships (or those almost-not-quite-relationships) with no problem. She used to show up at a guy's house and wink her way in. She used to act first and think about consequences _never_.

Why'd it all have to change?

_Then again,_ she thought with a shudder and thoughtful frown, her impulsive and juvenile actions did get her in some tight spots before.

Having to explain to your sister why she's picking you up at the police station with only a blanket given to you by the cops was not the best way to start summer vacation. But everyone should try skinny dipping once, just to see what the hype was about!

Maybe it was a good thing she wasn't so rash these days.

She rolled over for the nth time in bed and wondered what could alleviate her restlessness.

Rearranging Blossom's socks? Taking the car out for a joyride? Another late night rendezvous?

No, that wasn't it. She didn't need to do something stupid or crazy or daring (as per usual). And it wasn't about all the other relationships... It because of _him_ – this particular guy – and their supposed, almost, not-quite relationship.

There was this building pressure of feelings and uncertainty and tension every time they saw each other and she didn't address the issue or take action. Not to mention the guilt over what she was putting him through.

Sometimes she thought he was fine with what they had right now: friendship or something close to it. He only ever professed his feelings that one time. And she had ignored it because she was scared and superficial and didn't want to go down that road again, while he was all earnest and open and waiting for her to say the same thing back to him.

That had been so long ago – in teen years it was practically a lifetime.

Other times she wondered why he was even still with her. Why put up with all this? Why stick it out for x amount of time with little-to-no reward? Was he even still hoping for something more to happen? Had he already given up and she just hadn't noticed?

She hated herself for it; being a horrible person to someone who was so good to her. She should just tell him to move on, because who knew if she'd ever be ready for this.

It wasn't as if there was nothing to worry about, just because he had feelings for her and vice versa. It was because she'd been in that position before, and it didn't always work out.

Beginnings were a lot easier than the middle, or end (you were lucky if it even ended well). So for a while she just floated around having "beginnings" and enjoying it, but always breaking things off before it got too serious.

Of course, she couldn't help being quietly selfish this time; she really did like having him around.

He wasn't perfect or anything, but they just fit well together. And maybe with him being so stable it'd be good for her if only she could just...

All the thinking about everything, worrying over the future, worrying about him and what he thought of her... It was driving her insane. She didn't ever remember being so stressed in her life. She would implode soon.

Maybe she had been better off before – not thinking so much and just doing what she wanted in the moment...

**xoxo**

"So how come you haven't been sneaking Butch into your room anymore?"

"I– What?" Buttercup's eyes popped open from where she sat at the kitchen table.

Bubbles glanced through the doorway before looking back to her sister. "Who do you take me for? Blossom?" Pause. "Or maybe I'm the only one in this house that's a light sleeper..." she contemplated to herself.

"No, I never–"

"So, what's up with you guys?" the blonde cut in.

Buttercup's mouth opened to deny everything once more, but paused before letting out a sigh that had her entire posture slumping slightly. Finally she said, "It's just..._hard_."

A silence followed that made her think the subject was forgotten and she could go back to eating her breakfast in peace.

But after gathering her own meal, Bubbles replied, "Just take it one day at a time then. Stop planning so far ahead, geez."

Momentarily surprised by the response, her head turned and the spoon missed her mouth to jab at her cheek. After moving it away and rubbing at her face irritably she grumbled, "If I don't think of the future, that's when I slam into a brick wall. How many brick walls before I just can't do this anymore?"

"Oh come on, he seems so nice and–"

"A lot of them seem nice," she said darkly while staring at the cereal gathered in her spoon. "And that's not always the issue. Shit happens. It's not like everyone just wants to hurt everyone else. It's not always on purpose or because one person's being selfish or greedy or a complete ass."

Bubbles looked up at her sister for a few moments, studying the downcast expression. After another minute of quiet she spoke. "Fine. Then give up," she said simply with a small shrug.

"What?" Buttercup looked up abruptly.

"Stop liking him."

"Wha– I can't just–"

"Just stop whining about it." Before Buttercup could protest, she continued with, "In your head or out loud – doesn't matter. Just quit it. Decide already: left or right?"

The dark-haired girl stared her sister down blankly.

She returned the gaze with an innocent blink. "Right? Or left? Pick one and go with it and don't look back."

How did Bubbles pull off this façade of uncaring but insightful? Shouldn't that have been her role?

Then again, she wasn't really acting like herself lately.

Sitting around, freaking out, and doing nothing at all when she liked someone (this much), no matter the reasons for her hesitation and commitment-phobia...just wasn't her way; she liked to crash into things.

So, she just had to decide which way to veer. Left or right?

Well, she knew exactly what the old, careless Buttercup would do... Maybe the new, mature Buttercup could just...tone it down a notch.

"By the way, could you maybe bring him through the front door next time? We've all been waiting to formally meet him." The blonde smiled widely as her sister spilled her spoonful of milk.

**xoxo**

He realized he was two inches from the edge of his bed – had almost rolled himself right onto the floor. He lifted himself up while blinking slowly.

It's what he got for going to bed at a decent hour, right?

_At least,_ he thought while looking around, he was just in time to see someone slipping into his room.

Buttercup smiled and laughed slightly at being caught while taking off her shoes by his just-closed window. She shrugged and grinned her way over to his bed while he rubbed his eyes.

"BC? What're you doing here?" he asked quickly while eyes darted around. Luckily he was a minimalist, so there was no chance for clutter and mess. Then again, she'd been in his room before...it had just been a while.

She didn't answer in the way he expected. Instead there was this creepily familiar look materializing across her face, and she stalked closer than he thought either of them would be comfortable with.

...All the way into his bed while he was still trying to figure out if he was dreaming or not.

When she sat down – though with restraint it was only next to him – she said, "I wanted to see you." After a pause in which Butch only stared blankly, she added simply, "I missed you."

He didn't want to point out jokingly that they saw each other just yesterday at school. And he bit back his usual grins and smiles for fear it'd scare her off. He really wanted to see where this was going. She had actually made the trek to see him! Of her own free will!

Then, with grace he hadn't seen for like three months now, she leaned over and kissed him quick. Except it wasn't her usual – she just barely hit his temple. Wasn't that a move he liked to pull?

"You're teasing me," he commented with narrowed eyes at the act.

She laughed loudly. "Yeah, just a little. The look on your face...I had to take it a step further."

He sighed with a hand rubbing down his face. "Why're you here? Isn't it your bedtime?" he mocked.

And even though she knew the second question was a joke, seeing as how often they'd hung out until two in the morning, she still snapped, "I just said I fucking miss you!"

Butch started snickering. "See, that sounds more like you."

Her mouth opened to argue but he'd swept her up and around so she was lying down and staring up at his grin before she could make a sound.

"So, what can I do for you?" His eyes narrowed with the playful look still present. "I mean, are you lost or something? It's been a while since you were around these parts."

"Am I not welcome then?" she shot back with a pseudo-innocently questioning look.

"Sweetie, you can crawl in my bed whenever you want." Then he added quickly after a thought, "As long as I'm in it too."

While he was practically trembling excitedly on the inside, he managed to look only devious and provocative.

And while she was staring back confidently, she was thinking about inserting her foot in her mouth and heading right back home.

Her arms swept upward, seemingly on their own, to wrap around his neck. And Butch was a little wary as she drew him closer for the kiss he'd been aching for.

"Relax, would you?" she whispered before they met.

He smiled to himself – at _her_ telling _him_ – as his mouth remembered the way this went.

They rolled around on the bed a few times, one of her legs hooking behind his and one of his hands planted flat on her back.

In one of the quick breaks before they re-engaged she mumbled in a quick exhale, "I really, really like you."

He was caught between continuing their activities and pulling back in surprise at the admission. But she didn't let up, as if it were natural to confess feelings while making out in his bed in the middle of the night.

As he was still thinking this (and still going along with the kisses) she kept speaking hurriedly when they pulled apart briefly.

"It's just hard sometimes," she admitted again, though reattaching right after.

His thoughts moved back and forth between the current situation and confusion over her words.

And she must have known, because she halted their actions with her lips strategically placed by his ear to whisper hesitantly, "Liking someone, I mean."

When he didn't re-engage their making-out right away, she pulled back to see him smiling his crooked smile so wide it looked painful.

For always coming off so calm and confident all those times they hung out...and never seeming hopeless or truly worried the few times he'd broached the subject...and all those meaningful, assured glances...he looked so _relieved_. And now that she thought about it, she felt so much better too.

She was still thinking about this when his lips went back to roaming her jaw and chin and neck. And she barely heard him say with a grin she could feel on her skin, "You know you're not getting away now, right?"

"Whatever," she let out in a sigh at his actions.

Still, he considered himself lucky when she didn't push him away (anymore). And she was proud of herself for not backing down (again).

Somewhere in the dark, she heard him respond to her confession with, "I know." After another long kiss he said, "It never is."

**xo end xo**

8-20-12

5pm

12-31-12

10:17pm

(or actually sometime in January 2013...?)

Okay, well now the story's done. I hope I covered everything I could and there weren't any weird holes in the story. If so, tell me so I can fix 'em up ASAP.

**And, I know that I never address what Buttercup's "issues" are, and that was intentional. It's not that there's always one specific person or relationship that does us in. Sometimes it's a culmination of events, and then people decide it's not worth it to pursue romance (anymore). Happens all the time, even to someone as young as Buttercup – I mean, people are even influenced about relationships from what they see at a young age. Of course, being younger and still in high school, things are seen as more dramatic because most people haven't wised up yet – as it is here.**

So...lately I've been writing Butch as a "nice guy" – considering this story and "Curse of Curves". I guess it's too easy and boring to write the RRB as one-dimension, over-the-top villains who spout the same hateful words over and over again. And maybe I was inspired by ujikin's "drunken BC" where he's more irritated and not responding to her. In that pic both characters are behaving "OOC". It's things like that artwork that make you look at the characters differently and want to write them differently. Hope this wasn't too much of a stretch.

I wrote most of the story in August of 2012 and quickly got desperate and sick of it. I reread things over a dozen times sometimes when writing so it happens – usually when it's a longer story or it's taking longer than I'd like to complete. Anyway, so I gave up and went on to write "Curse of Curves" (which you should totally check out if you liked this story because it's way better) before finally coming back to edit this in December. Of course, when I came back to it, there was a _lot_ of procrastination. Even til the very end. I was just sick of this story, and so tired of rereading it for flaws and editing and continuity... I'm still a bit iffy about whether this chapter worked out and if this story ends right to me. But I give up already.

I'll tell you, it was this story that held me back from writing anything else. It was just always in the back of my mind, bothering me.

**Thank you to the people who have reviewed thus far!** It was great to hear what you thought and whatever emotions this got out of you. If a story doesn't make you feel anything then it probably isn't good (enough). I've written bad, lackluster stories before (some that are still up too).

So, thanks for reading and tell me what you think.

1-22-13

8:19am


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